Wanting More Out of Life
by iLuvHawkeye
Summary: Barb is a sassy, vivacious nurse at the 4077 MASH. She becomes best friends with Trapper and Hawkeye, and becomes an important part in everyone's lives: and eventually, finds love in the last place she would look.
1. Introducing Barb

A/N: I will probably get a lot of medical details wrong and some of the characters might be OOC, but forgive me: it's my first MASH fanfic. Also, some of the military details might be wrong: please don't flame because of that.  I've been planning this for a while, and I am so excited! Please review!

Barb hazily awoke from the blaring of the alarm clock, winced as sunlight got in her eyes, and groaned angrily. She slammed her hand down on it, and she sighed as blessed silence filled her bedroom. Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Barb groaned again.

Her cheery, happy room-mate and best friend Margot walked in the door, a huge smile on her face. "Good morning!" she trilled, jumping on the bed. "Oh!" Barb moaned, clasping her forehead. "Don't you realize it's against the rules to be this happy at this time in the morning? Plus, don't shout so loud," she pleaded.

Margot mock-frowned. "Shame, shame!" she tsked her friend. "Got hung over again, I see." Barb sat up, brushing her shoulder length honey brown hair back from her face, revealing emerald green eyes that were slightly hazy. "Did I?" she asked, attempting to smile and then frowned as it hurt.

"Apparently," Margot said in amusement. Barb studied her friend's fiery red hair, and hazel eyes, which were narrowed as Margot tried to control her laughter at Barb's obvious discomfort. Margot could laugh at anything.

Barb couldn't help but laugh as well, even though it sent her head to a whole other place. She and Margot had been friends since kindergarten, and both had the same dream: to be nurses. Margot's natural kind and caring personality had made her the perfect nurse, while Barb's mischievous, sneaky nature had made her work a little harder to be kind and compassionate, although she had an excellent hand at medicine.

They had both gone to Harvard University, and now were renting a house in Beaufort, South Carolina, where both girls had grown up. They loved their hometown. There was something almost magnetic about it. The ocean wasn't the bluest in the world, and the town wasn't as friendly as other towns. And yet…there was something about it that had made them both want to come back.

"You're on shift today," Margot remarked, eyeing Barb's pearl necklace. "I have a date tonight," she said. "Could I borrow your pearls?" "My pearls are your pearls," Barb answered. "When does it start?" Unlike Margot, Barb could never keep track of anything save her guitar and surfboard. "In about an hour," Margot answered.

"Think your hangover will be gone by then?" she grinned. "Hopefully," Barb groused, running a hand through her ruffled hair. "You know," Barb said, "I'm getting really bored with this job." "Why?" Margot asked, modeling the pearls. "I don't know. It's just always the same. Routine. I want something new. Would you make some hard-boiled eggs, please?" "Of course," Margot answered courteously. "Hurry and shower."

Barb went through all the motions of waking up: namely, lying in bed for another fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and cursing, taking a five minute cold shower, brushing her teeth hurriedly, getting dressed equally as hurriedly, and gulping the hard-boiled eggs down as fast as possible.

"Thanks, Margot," Barb said. "Hey, don't forget your guitar!" Margot called out as Barb was about to shoot out the door. "Why?" Barb asked. "You promised to play for Dr. Korick during break, remember?" Margot said, bringing her guitar case over. "Oh, yeah." Barb slapped her head. "Wake up, Barb. Thanks again."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Smith, you'll be fine," Barb coaxed the old woman. "Don't leave me!" she begged Barb, her eyes wide with terror. "I'll send a nurse to you immediately," Barb assured her. "No!" Mrs. Smith sobbed. "Louise! Louise!" Barb gently sat down next to her and held her hand. Mrs. Smith was nearly 90 years old, and had Alzheimer's. She had been sent to the hospital because she needed special treatment. Louise was Mrs. Smith's daughter who had left her years ago and never come back.

"I'll take over," Mary said to her. Barb looked up, and smiled. "Okay, thanks," she said gratefully. Mary eyed her closely. "Hangover," she predicted. "As usual, correct," Barb grinned. "Who with?" Mary asked. "I don't kiss and tell," Barb said in mock indignation. Mary laughed, and sat down next to Mrs. Smith.

Barb sighed softly, and ran her hand through her hair again for the millionth time. For once in almost a month, no one had needed emergency care. After taking a careful glance around, Barb went on to the doctor's lounge, where her guitar was waiting.

She took it out of its case and stroked it fondly. Her guitar was almost as important to her as her job was. It was the only thing that kept her firmly grounded: if it weren't for her music, she would be completely wild. Her music was her way of letting go, and letting loose, expressing herself.

She strummed a soft tune, and hummed a few stanzas. Dr. Korick came in and grinned. "Hello, Barb," he said. "Hi," Barb smiled. "Wanna hear my new song?" "Of course!" Dr. Korick answered, getting a sip of water before sitting down.

Barb tuned her guitar, and waited for a moment so that the words would come to her. She started softly, and slowly grew louder, her guitar going from meek and mild to passionate and full of pain.

"He was never the one for me," Barb sang.

"He took my heart and he broke my heart

He never returned my heart.

Why should I even care what he is

He's nothing to me…

So why do I care?"

A string of doctors and nurses had gathered just outside the doors. Barb was famous for her music. Her lyrics could usually use a little work, but it came straight from her heart. Barb finished, and there was silence.

Suddenly a nurse ran in, pushing past the doctors and nurses assembled at the door. "There's a war!" she cried frantically. "What?" they chorused. Barb put her guitar down in its case to listen. "The United States has entered the Korean War! North Korea is trying to invade South Korea and make it Communist, and they're drafting right and left!" There was worried murmuring all around the room, but Barb's eyes had taken on a glow that only Margot could interpret and beware of it in time.

Over the frantic worrying that someone might receive a draft notice, Barb slipped out and finished her shift in fifteen minutes, then walked slowly out to her car, her eyes glowing even more. She knew she should think about it, and she could think of no better place to think over her decision than on a few choice waves. Hopefully, there would be some good ones after yesterday's storm.

She hopped into her car and drove along the road, listening to some music playing in her head, and just thinking. She braked to a stop at a deserted ocean where few people ever came, but was a great place for great waves. She grabbed her board and took off her shirt and to reveal a white swimsuit.

She plunged into the ocean, breathing in its sweet, salty scent. As she hopped up to grab a wave, she thought. '_I'd have to leave the ocean, and Margot,_' she realized. '_Am I up for that? Could I leave Margot? We've been together for over ten years. Could I leave Beaufort? I love it._' As she paddled out again, she thought, '_You said life was getting monotonous. So why are you hesitating? You're going to a place to save our soldiers and get some drama in your life. You're going to experience adventure! How many people have this opportunity?_' On a sadder note, '_A lot of them probably don't even want to go. A lot of them will die. **I **might die. Am I up to this?_" Suddenly a wave flipped her over, and she tumbled to shore, her board bumping her head. Coughing and sputtering, she sat up, blinking rapidly as salt burned in her eyes. She smiled. '_It can't be any worse than getting flipped by a wave. Why not? I'll get to serve my country, meet new people…all in all, it's good._'

Barb laughed, and thrust herself into a wave, dancing in the surf. "Why not?" she shouted above the crashing of the waves.

"You're what?" Margot yelped, spewing food across the table. Barb successfully dodged the mashed up green beans, and took another sip of her wine. "I'm enlisting," she said. "I'm sure you've heard of the war-or 'police action', which we all know it is not," she said, wiping her mouth.

"But, Barb!" Margot said, her eyes wide. "You're going to be a nurse in the place that is the hottest place in the world during the summer, and the coldest place on earth during the winter, where the primary cause of death is snakebite, and the second is frostbite, _just to get an adventure?_ Are you utterly insane?" "No!" Barb reproached her. "I just think that this is what I'm supposed to do."

Margot sighed and leaned back in her chair. She looked at Barb, and her hazel eyes were serious. "Are you completely sure you want to do this?" she asked. Barb set down her fork, and leaned forward intently. "Yes," she answered.

There was silence, and then Margot tried to smile. "Good luck," she whispered. Barb grinned. "What will you be taking?" Margot cleared her throat, and wiped furiously at her eyes. "Um," Barb looked down to keep Margot from seeing the tears that were gathering in her own eyes. "My guitar, obviously," she said slowly. "Maybe one of my favorite dresses…letters, books, pictures…special things." "Will they let you?" Margot asked. "I hope so," Barb answered.

A tear trickled down Margot's cheek, and they both burst out crying. They ran and hugged each other closely, allowing the tears to fall. "Tears…falling…with the rain…heaven and I are crying…" Barb sang softly into her best friend's shoulder, tears dropping onto the floor.

Barb sighed and looked herself in the mirror. She glanced over her nurse's army uniform closely to make sure nothing was wrong. Today was the day of truth. She was heading to Korea after getting her dog-tags, and other information. She shuddered, trying to keep tears at bay. Leaving Margot and Beaufort was going to be harder than she thought.

She picked up her suitcase and guitar case, and with Margot, walked out of their front door. Margot locked it, and they got into the car. As they drove to the airport where she would be leaving, there was utter silence. Barb gazed around, capturing every detail, every sight, every scent, every sound, tucking them away into her mind to bring out later.

They finally reached their destination. They walked in silence, amid several thousands of other people who were also bidding their loved ones good-bye. Margot and Barb stood at the gates, where Margot could not come any farther. They gazed at each other for a moment and then gripped each other in a tight hug.

"I'll write every day," Barb promised, tears leaking through once more. "Promise we'll always be best friends," Margot whispered. "Always," Barb replied. Margot smiled, and Barb stared at her, memorizing every detail, everything about her. "Will you be home for Christmas?" Margot asked, laughing slightly. Barb joined her. "Let's pray so," she answered. "Time to go, miss," a straight-faced man told her.

Barb turned to Margot one last time. "I won't forget you," she promised. "Don't die of a snakebite, and avoid Communists!" Margot warned. Barb laughed as she walked backwards, to avoid cutting off her sight. "God bless!" she cried, and Margot lifted a hand to wave.

Finally, Barb turned a corner, and Margot was gone. Barb turned around to face the unknown, her breath quickening with excitement. Gone was security, gone was routine. Now, there was only adventure lying around the corner, and only danger as well. She closed her eyes and smiled.

A/N: This is only the first part. I thought I'd introduce you to Barb and her life before actually putting her in Korea. Like it? I'm falling in love with Barb already! Let me know what you think!


	2. Arrival in Korea and A Defeat

Barb yawned as she stepped off the plane in Seoul and out of the gates. She shifted her weight to make carrying her bags and guitar case easier, and set off at a brisk walk to catch her Jeep. Her dog-tags clanked together and Barb glanced at them in annoyance.

She still couldn't get used to wearing them. She had never liked wearing necklaces, and this was pretty close to a necklace anyway. She also couldn't get used to this nurse's uniform; ugh, brown was so not her color.

Also, the stupid patches on her arm that explained her rank were annoying as well. She had been given the rank of sergeant, and already hated it. She would NEVER get used to privates and corporals saying, 'Ma'am, yes, ma'am!' or 'Ma'am, no, ma'am!' It was annoying. She wasn't a ma'am. She was too young to be a ma'am.

As she reached the door, she glanced around outside for her Jeep and sighed with relief when she saw it and the driver, a corporal, waiting for her. She pushed the door open, and nearly fell back in from the heat. Immediately, sweat popped up on her brow and she could hardly breathe from the humidity.

She stumbled over to the Jeep and shoved her bags in the back and stepped in. "Corporal," she greeted the driver. He saluted, and reluctantly, she lifted her hand and saluted back. Any kind of movement felt heavy and...very hot. "Hello, ma'am," he answered.

"You're heading for the MASH 4077, I presume," he said as he started the Jeep. Barb nodded the affirmative, as they started driving. The slightly cooler wind felt good on her face.

"Where you from, if you don't mind my asking, ma'am?" he asked politely as they turned sharply. Barb fell against the door with a grunt. "Would you quit with the 'ma'am' stuff, please?" she asked crossly, not quite thinking straight from jet-lag. "I'm too young to be a ma'am," she said.

"Jet-lag," the corporal said. "Don't worry. It affects you for a few days, but then you feel okay." "I'm from Beaufort, South Carolina," Barb answered his previous question. "I'm from Bluffton, South Carolina," the corporal grinned. "We're practically neighbors!" Barb managed a laugh. "You ever seen Beaufort?" she asked.

"Just once," he answered. "Nice little town, that." "Yeah," Barb answered, a hint of sadness in her tone. Just then, there was an exploding sound and the Jeep swerved as a cloud of dust went up beside them.

"What was that?" Barb shouted. "Bomb!" the corporal shouted back. "It's fine! We'll be fine!" He stepped on the gas pedal and the Jeep zoomed ahead, trying to outrun the unknown enemies.

About five minutes later, the corporal predicted that they were safe and they went a little slower.

However, just then, Barb spotted something up ahead. "Look!" she said, pointing. "What is that?" The corporal glanced over to where she was pointing and braked. "Wounded soldier," he answered her. "Get out." Barb looked at him in horror. "And do what?" she shouted at him.

"Hell, ma'am, you're a nurse!" he said. He reached in the back and pulled out a medical bag that someone had shoved in her arms when she left the plane. "Use this!" Barb was too nervous to reproach him for using the term 'ma'am'. She stepped off the Jeep and hesitantly approached the wounded man.

He glanced up, his breathing heavy, and then laid his head back down. "Do something!" the corporal screamed at her. Barb shook off her fear and examined him. Blood was leaking from his leg, and there was a stained bandage wrapped around his head.

She took the bandage off and winced at the ugly sight. She knew instantly that he was in deep trouble. The leg could wait, she thought to herself, and opened her bag to look through it.

"Can you do anything?" the corporal asked from the Jeep. Barb glanced back, sweat heavy on her brow. "He has a lot of shrapnel in his head," she said. "It's a wonder he isn't dead now. I doubt he'll make it to the MASH unit." "What are you going to do? Will he make it?" the corporal asked anxiously.

"Get over here!" Barb ordered tightly. In seconds he was kneeling beside her. "I wish I had some anesthesia," Barb muttered. "What are you doing?" the corporal asked. "I'm going to try and get some of the shrapnel out," Barb answered. "Can you do that?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know yet," Barb answered. "I'm only a nurse, not a doctor. I wish to God that there was a surgeon here." She worked tensely for several minutes, removing piece after piece of shrapnel. Finally, though, she threw her instrument down and hung her head.

"It's no use," she said in defeat. "The brain is damaged. He'll never make it." By now, the soldier had blacked out from pain and his breathing was slowing rapidly. She checked his pulse and shook her head. "You have a watch?" she asked. She held the soldier's hand until finally the pulse stopped. "What's the time?" she asked. "3:21 P.M.," the corporal answered softly.

Barb sighed. "This does not bode well," she whispered. "I can't believe that I lost a patient after only being here for a half-hour." "You're only a nurse," the corporal said. "If you were a surgeon, then you would have cause for disappointment. But...if I was a nurse, I wouldn't have even tried. You gave it everything you had."

Barb was silent for a moment, and then got up, brushing off her skirt and closing her medical bag. "Help me carry him to the Jeep," she said.

. . . . . .. .....................LATER.................................

They traveled in silence all the way to the MASH unit. Some stretcher carriers carried off the dead man, and Barb clutched her bags and guitar case as she surveyed her new home. She wiped her damp forehead with her hand and walked briskly to the C.O.'s office.

She walked inside, and set down her bags next to the desk where a young corporal was working. "May I please see the commanding officer?" she asked him.

He glanced up, and started, rising to attention with a salute. She saluted him back, and he answered, "Are you the new nurse we've been waiting for?" "Yes, I suppose," Barb answered tiredly. "Oh, Colonel Blake's in his office," he answered.

"I'm Sergeant Joelson," Barb introduced herself. "Oh, I'm Corporal O'Reilly," he said. "Could I have your first name?" Barb asked. "Oh, uh, Walter," he said. "But most folks call me Radar." "Radar?" Barb said, cocking her head. "That's an odd name." "Oh, well, uh, I suppose so..." Radar answered. "My name is Barb," Barb said, although she wasn't sure why she said it. "Oh, that's nice," Radar said, his head down as he ruffled through some papers.

Barb lingered for a moment and then, as it was apparent that Radar didn't have anything else to say, went into Colonel Blake's office.

She saw the colonel with his feet on his desk, smoking a cigar with a half-full brandy glass next to him. "Colonel," Barb said, saluting him. He looked up, hurriedly removed his feet from the desk and stood up, and saluted her back. "Sergeant Joelson," he said, shaking her hand. "Colonel Blake," Barb acknowledged.

"Glad you made it," he grinned. "Thank you, sir," she said. "Call me Henry," he said. Barb nodded, not really wanting to say much as her tongue felt like it weighed ten pounds.

"Eh, would you like a tour of the 4077?" he asked. "Oh, well, actually, Henry, I was hoping to get some rest," Barb said, her vision starting to blur from exhaustion. "Oh, of course," Henry answered. "I'm sure you must be tired." "Yes, sir," Barb answered.

"Well, uh, Radar will show you the way," he said. As he called out, "Radar!" Radar entered the office and as Henry said, "Radar, take Ms. Joelson's bags to the nurses' tent," Radar said, "I'll take Ms. Joelson's bags to the nurses' tent." Barb hazily observed that this must be why he was called Radar.

"Oh," Barb said. "When am I on shift?" "Uh, tomorrow afternoon," Henry answered, "1-5 in post-op. Of course, if casualties come in, we might need your help earlier." Barb nodded, and followed Radar.

Once they reached the nurses' tent, Barb looked around. It was small, but comfortable. There were two bunks and one bed. One of the top bunks was emptied of clutter, so Barb assumed that was her bed. "Here you go, ma'am," Radar said nervously, setting her bags down. "Thank you, Radar," Barb said. He nodded, and left the tent.

She yawned and kicked off her shoes, and shoved her bags and guitar case underneath the bunk. Then, she managed to climb up to her bunk and laid down on top of the covers and fell into a deep sleep. However, as she slept, her dreams were haunted by the memory of the dead soldier's eyes as he looked at her. They were full of fear, and it was almost like he was pleading with her to help save him. And all she could do was sit there.

A/N: Some of the medical details might be wrong, but I think on the most part, I got a lot of it right. I hope you like it! Please R and R!


	3. Margie and Kellye

A/N: Is anyone reading this story anymore? I haven't updated since September of last year! I hadn't thought it'd been so long...I'm sorry to whoever has been waiting all this time, if anyone! I especially apologize to Barb, having waited over half a year to meet the MASH 4077. Well, who am I to delay? Let's go!

* * *

Barb's eyes fluttered open as she heard the sound of women chattering softly. At first, she thought Margot had invited Elizabeth over to have a party, but then she remembered the events of the previous week...her enlistment...leaving Margot and Beaufort...and then coming to Korea and losing a soldier's life...

Groaning, Barb forced herself to sit up, eyes blurry at first but then clearing as she saw two women grinning up at her. "She's awake!" one rejoiced. "You've been asleep for almost a whole day now," the other informed her, sitting down on the bed. "Henry said you could have this shift off, though, since you had it pretty rough yesterday. The corporal told him everything. If there were wounded coming in, though, you'd be on that operating floor so fast your head would spin."

"Um..." Barb looked from one to the other. "Are you my bunk-mates?" They laughed. "Yeah," one said. She was pretty, with strawberry colored hair and laughing blue eyes. "Sorry for not introducing ourselves yet. I'm Margie, and that's Kellye." Kellye greeted her warmly. She looked Hawaiian, Barb mused, and had pretty black hair and really nice tanned skin. Barb wished for a moment that she could have skin that color, but brushed it away.

"I'm Barb," she said, sliding off her top bunk to shake hands with them. "I'm obviously new." They laughed. "Do you...usually wear that?" Barb asked curiously, motioning towards their khaki jeans and T-shirts. "Yeah," Kellye said. "You can't really work around here wearing a dress, especially when you have to run to get wounded. And it's hard to duck in a dress too." "I can see how that would be a burden," Barb agreed, warming to her new friends.

"So," Margie said, leaning forward. "What do you have from the outside world? Anything good?" "Huh?" Barb asked, confused.

"Oh, yeah," Margie said. "You're new. Here, we don't get anything much that's real or neededif we do, it's army surplus. Chocolate, candy, anything that has taste is greatly appreciated. Our cook never graduated from cooking school. It's really bad. And we've developed habits here: such as, we share _everything_. Not that you have too, if you don't want to. But we share food, letters from home, packages, etc. We're really close knit."

"Ah," Barb nodded. "Is it that bad?" "Yes!" Kellye and Margie chimed together. "You have no idea," Kellye sighed. "Well," Barb said, pulling uncomfortably at her dress, now very sticky with the summer humidity, "I do have some stuff from home, if you wanna take a look at it."

"That would be so great," Margie gushed, the two looking eagerly over Barb's shoulder as she pulled out her suitcase. "I have a lot of letters," Barb said. "Margot, my friend from back home, wrote letters for me in advance. She's strange that way." They laughed. "Oh, and pictures," Barb said, pulling out a thick stack of envelopes. "Ooh, let's see those!" Kellye begged eagerly. Barb emptied the envelope onto the bed, and picked up some pictures. They looked at pictures for about half an hour, Barb showing them her house, Margot, Beaufort, and various other pictures.

"You had a great life," Margie sighed. "I wish I could have lived near an ocean. I come from Austin, Texas. (A/N: I don't know where Margie came from in actuality from the series, so I'm just having her come from Texas.) I'm kinda used to the heat, although the Korean heat is a lot worse than it is there."

"I love the ocean," Kellye said. "In Hawaii, it was hot all the time, but the ocean was always comforting. So blue, and clear, and really great waves." "Oh, I know," Barb sighed wistfully, thinking of the cool ocean waves. "What I wouldn't give for some cool water on my back right now."

All three sighed, wishing for something cool. "Oh!" Margie said. "We'd better tell you about the 4077. Okay, the head nurse is Major Margaret Houlihan. She is really strict about rules and regulationsregular army." "Isn't everyone here?" Barb asked. Margie and Kellye looked at each other and laughed. "Are you kidding?" Kellye asked. "Almost no one here is, except for Major Houlihan and Major Burns. We get away with anything-it's really crazy!" "I guess it's our way of coping with the stress," Margie explained. "We go crazy instead of going crazy."

Barb digested this information, and then it clicked. "Oh, you mean fun-crazy as opposed to literally crazy." "Right!" they nodded. "Anyway, Major Houlihan is really strict. You'd better avoid her, and be on your best behavior around her, especially on the operating room floor," Margie advised. "You make one little mistake, and you're on her bad list for life." "Okay," Barb nodded. "What about this Major Burns? Who's he?"

"Henry's second in command," Kellye explained. "A real idiot. He's regular army, and a surgeon, but he really doesn't do very well with medicine, and Hawkeye and Trapper never cease to rub it in his face." "Who?" Barb asked, feeling very confused now. Margie and Kellye laughed. "Don't worry, you'll get to know everyone and become like familyand then wish you hadn't," Marige said.

"Hawkeye and Trapper are the local womanizers of the MASH 4077," Margie said. "Watch out especially for Hawkeye. Trapper's okay, and..." she giggled, "really hot. I think Major Houlihan's got a thing for him. You should see the way she looks at him sometimes! It drives Major Burns up a tree!" The two laughed. "As you know," Kellye said, "Henry is our C.O., and Radar is our company clerk. I think that pretty much sums it up. You'll meet the rest of the nurses later, as well as the other interesting characters here. Hey, what's that underneath your bunk?" Kellye pointed to the guitar case, and Margie turned to look.

"Oh, that's my guitar," Barb said. "You play the guitar?" Margie gasped with delight. "I love music! We rarely get to hear anyone perform live here, and so whenever we do it's a special treat. Could you play something for us?" "Could it wait?" Barb asked. "I'm really actually dying to get out of this heat trap." "Oh, right, sorry," Margie said. "Here, Major Houlihan brought over your clothes. She tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't. She was about to wrestle you off the bed but Henry told her to clam up and wait till you woke up."

"I can't believe I'm in this crazy place," Barb muttered, but turned around with a sigh to get out of her uniform and into more comfortable clothes.

A/N: Well, she meets the nurses! In the next chapter, Barb meets the rest of the camp! If anyone is still reading this, I'm really sorry for delaying so long! I'll try to be better about that!


End file.
